<<

The Washington Post For Tull, Art Rock's No Joke

Saturday, April 27, 2002; Page C05

Ian Anderson's medieval references and classical pretensions made him and his rotating band of merry and disheveled sidemen in Jethro Tull cool to a dazed and confused generation. His flute, like Keith Emerson's wall of keyboards and Jimmy Page's violin bow, summons up a bygone time in pop culture. Then again, so does the polyester leisure suit. And most folks know better than to show up in public in such clothing without acknowledging just how dated such garb is.

Yet the stage of the Warner Theater was an irony-free zone for too much of Jethro Tull's two- hour retrospective set Thursday night. Dressed in tights and a miniskirt, but doing without the codpiece that was a part of his costume back when the group could fill arenas, Anderson delivered most of the pieces that made him one of Britain's most successful art-rock bombasticians.

The band's earlier, more blues-oriented tunes, such as "A Song for Jeffrey" and "A New Day Yesterday," were greeted with standing ovations by the sold-out house. And the instrumental portions -- or "movements," as art rockers used to call 'em -- of "" all by themselves proved how much melody-crafting talent Anderson possesses. (The automaker Hyundai now uses a recurring melody line from that tune in its television commercials, if that's validation.) And longtime guitarist 's power chords had a timeless rawness.

But the decades have done a number on the lyrical content of "Brick," a "concept album" from 1972. A similar silliness now pervades "Cross-Eyed Mary," "Locomotive Breath" and "Wond'ring Aloud." Anderson never let on that there's a joke to be gotten.

-- Dave McKenna